


Pain Is So Close To Pleasure

by TheAdorableTia



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, I got really sad writing parts of this, M/M, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28010340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAdorableTia/pseuds/TheAdorableTia
Summary: John knew that his soulmate was having an awful life. The pain he felt nearly daily through their bond was enough to tell him that. He held on to the hope that someday, he would find them, and hold them in his arms and never let them feel that way again.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Comments: 68
Kudos: 45





	1. Sunshine And Rainy Weather Go Hand In Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know I should be working on other things, but this idea came to me and just wouldn't let me go until I wrote it down. So here is chapter one of my latest soulmate au!  
> TW: Mentions of physical abuse.

John felt tears well in his eyes. Pain lashed through his rib cage, though nothing was happening to him. He was lying in his bed, trying to sleep when suddenly he felt a sharp jolt in his arm as if he had been grabbed, and soon after there was a series of pains in his arms and legs, and then the searing ache of something bashing his ribs. He bit back the sob that wanted to escape him, trying not to cry out.

He’d been having these pains for several years now. Sometimes they stopped for a few weeks at a time, but sometimes it felt like it happened every night. The past few months had seen the pain happening more and more frequently.

What hurt the most, was that he knew it was happening to  _ them _ . His soulmate, whoever they were, was having an absolute shit life. They were suffering this pain first hand and there was nothing John could do to stop it. It was that thought that made tears fall from the 12 year old’s eyes.

He let the tears fall silently, holding back the sobs that so badly wanted to come out. He didn’t want to wake his mum or sister with his crying. When he was even younger, he hadn’t been able to hold back the terror. It made his mother and father just as sad as he felt, knowing what was going on with his soulmate. After a while, he’d started being able to hold back the urge to cry out with each blow of pain. His dad had died 3 years after that, and he didn’t want to make his mum or sister even more sad with this. So, he kept it quiet, pretending that the feelings had stopped in front of them. Even at the age of 11, he knew that this was his burden to carry.

He was shocked out of his musings when he felt another sudden pain. This was in his hand, along his knuckles. It wasn’t like the other pains. This didn’t feel like receiving an unexpected hit. It felt deliberate.

They’d fought back. After years of taking hits, they had finally  _ given one back _ . 

A low choking sound escaped his lips, something between a laugh and a sob, and a small spark of hope flared up inside of him. He had to bite back more of the mixed sobs and laughter when his fists hurt again, and again. His soulmate was fighting back. They weren’t taking it anymore. They were done with being a punching bag, and it was their turn to be the one causing pain.

It was that spark of hope that carried him over the coming days, as no new pains woke him in the night. There were occasional twinges here and there, but they were in places like his shins or toes, as if his soulmate had bumped into something. His hands hurt sometimes, probably after effects of all of the blows they’d given to their abuser. They must have done quite a number on the other person.

After a solid two weeks of no more attacks, John allowed himself to relax and let that spark of hope grow inside of him. He was still wary, as there had been times before where the attacks seemingly had stopped, only for them to happen again a week or more later. Somehow he felt this time was different. They’d never fought back before. Maybe this time it would finally be permanent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Roger hissed in a breath and shook his hand. He looked around the lecture hall, but no one was looking at him, thank god. People were used to his random outbursts of pain by now. They all knew that it was his soulmate. Whoever they were must have some sort of death wish, because they were electrocuted on what seemed like a weekly basis, if not more.

It had led to some very awkward moments in his life. One time during a gig with Smile, he’d been in the middle of a difficult solo when a spark ran through him, causing him to topple off of his seat and fling one of his drumsticks right at Brian, whacking him in the back of his head. Another time, he’d been chatting up a bird in a pub when a sudden jolt ran through him, causing his body to shudder and his blond hair puff out momentarily. The woman he’d been talking to had tried valiantly to not laugh at the sight, but ended up failing. At the time, Roger had been very angry. His pain, and by extension his soulmate’s pain, wasn’t funny. He, more than anyone, knew how it felt to bear the burden of causing someone else’s torture.

The worst most people felt were scrapes and cuts and the occasional bruise of a misstep. The broken bones of childhood accidents weren’t an uncommon thing for people to feel through the soulmate bond. His childhood had seen him cause his soulmate the agonizing pain of being beaten on a regular basis.

He had vowed after the last time his father had ever laid hands on him, the night he’d gathered up the courage and fought back against the man, that if he ever did find his soulmate, the first thing he would do is apologize for all of the pain he had caused them to suffer. 

He turned his attention back to the professor who was giving the lecture, flexing his hand to dispel the little tingles still running through it. At least this time it had been a small shock closer to that of static, like walking on a carpet with socks and then touching a doorknob. Sometimes it felt like his soulmate had stuck their finger into a socket connected to the mains. 

He kept taking notes, as was expected of him, even though studying Biology was not what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He was going to be a rock star. He and Brian and Freddie were going to be legends. Well, they would be if they ever found a bassist for the reimagined Queen that would stick around for more than a few weeks. They’d all been one or the other. Talented but without a personality that could mesh with all three of the other members, or they had a great personality but their playing left something to be desired with no real intention of improving themselves.

One day though, they would find the perfect fit. He just knew that they would.


	2. All I Wanted Was To Start A New Relation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John joins Queen, and finds a new family in the three other members. And realizes that there's something a little bit more with one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two! I hope that you enjoy it! I apologize in advance for the end of the chapter. Muahaha!

John was still in a bit of shock. He’d thought it was a long shot, but he had done it. He’d overcome his fear, and had auditioned to join a new band. He hadn’t been a part of one since his secondary school days with The Opposition, and he had missed getting to play music with others. He’d been too nervous to try again with total strangers, until he’d seen the flyer hanging on one of the notice boards around his college. 

It was for a group calling themselves Queen. They were a band of students from different universities, and they were looking for a new bassist. John was in luck. 

His audition had gone well, in his own mind, and talking with the other members of it felt fairly natural. He was still quiet, preferring to listen to the others speak, and only really speaking when they asked him a question. The drummer, a blond man only two years older than him, had been the one who had made John laugh the hardest he had in a very long time. John had mentioned he was studying Electrical Engineering over at Chelsea College when Roger had piped up with a very lame pun about that being a “shocking” revelation.

It was a bad joke, and John knew it was a bad joke. It didn’t stop him from doubling over in laughter at just how stupid it was. That had bonded the pair together. Roger knew he could make the shy John smile and laugh, and so he did. He was the one who managed to get the brunet to come out of his shell. He was the first one to receive one of John’s sharp replies, given with a deadpan expression. It had brought the other three men to tears of laughter in the middle of the pub after their first gig together.

The way the pair played together at their first official rehearsal together as a band wasn’t perfect, but it was miles above the first rehearsals of the other six bassists that had come before him. John and Roger just worked together well as a rhythm section. They quickly built up a silent language of their own, made up of glances and small movements that clued the other in to what was going on with them musically.

Freddie was an absolute character. He had made a connection with John immediately, in a different way than Roger had. There was a fierce protective nature to him that had him looking out for the youngest member of the band in a brotherly fashion. John had never had a brother, but he quickly realized he’d found one in the flamboyant and charismatic front man.

John and Brian had connected on a more intellectual level. They were both considered the brain boxes of the band, though John was more apt to focus on the things right in front of him rather than the rest of the cosmos. He and Brian were the ones who brought Freddie and Roger back from their flights of fancy, reminding them about school and work and the importance of realistic expectations. Brian believed in the band just as much as Freddie and Roger did, he just approached it in a more down to earth manner than the others did.

John was just happy to be along for the ride. He never tried to make any decisions about the band, abstaining from any votes they may have made, and only giving an opinion when directly asked for one. He was the new guy, and he wasn’t about to step on any toes and threaten the happiness he had found within the group. These three men; a biology student who just wanted to be a rockstar, an art student destined to be a legend, and a budding astrophysicist had become John’s family in London, his home away from home, in the precious few months that had passed since that fateful audition.

It was after rehearsal one day about six months after joining Queen, that John realized that he had found so much more than just friends in this ragtag group.

It was in the afternoon in the spring, just before exams. The four members of the band agreed to have a shortened practice, so that they could have more time to study. Well, Brian and Deaky, as Roger had dubbed John shortly after meeting, had argued that  _ they  _ really needed to study. Freddie and Roger were much less inclined to do so. Roger managed to squeak by in most of his classes with minimal effort, and Freddie was naturally gifted at the arts, and very charming and charismatic which could take you a very long way in his chosen field.

Brian left first, followed by Freddie, leaving the youngest of the group to take down Roger’s kit and haul it to the van. Deaky had grumbled a bit about him being the one who had argued he needed time to study, and yet was still one of the people leaving last. Only to himself under his breath, and halfheartedly. He couldn’t begrudge an opportunity to spend some time with Roger, who was by this point, his best friend. Roger understood him on a level that no one else ever really had. John had allowed him closer than anyone else, except for maybe his mum.

John was packing his bass away, when he heard a loud crash and shout from behind him, and suddenly he felt a pain in his hands, chest, and part of his face. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him from a fall, after trying to catch himself, and bashing his head in the process. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned around, ache still throbbing in his hands and chest and face, to see Roger picking himself up from where he had fallen while trying to move out from behind his kit. John’s heart sped up when he saw that Roger’s hands were red, and there was a bit of red blooming on the part of his face that matched with the spot of pain on his own face.

“Deaks? I’m fine, just a little tumble is all. No need to look so worried.” Roger said as he dusted himself off, wincing a bit when he prodded at the spot on his forehead where it had met the floor. John had turned sheet white, much more pale than his normal skin tone, and his eyes were wide with something that looked like shock. “Deaky, are you ok?” The blond said after more silent, shocked staring from the brunet. “I’m not bleeding am I?”

“I felt that, Rog. I felt your fall.” John spoke in a voice just above a whisper. Surprise lacing his every word. “Like the wind was knocked out of me, my hands hurt from trying to catch yourself, and..” He brought his hand up to touch a space on his forehead, “You hit your head on the way down.”

Roger’s face changed from the slightly worried expression had been wearing, to one of shock that matched the one that Deaky wore. What the bloody hell was going on?


	3. Wipe The Tears From Your Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they realize that they are soulmates, Roger must come to terms with his part of their past.

Roger looked down at his hands, palms red from the impact, and then back up at John. His breath caught in his throat as thoughts began whirring through his mind. John was his soulmate? This sweet, funny, talented man was who he had subjected all of that torture to for so many years? His best friend. 

Immeasurable amounts of guilt had already filled Roger for the last several years. The knowledge of what he had put his soulmate through for so long ate at him like a flesh eating bacteria. The fact that the person he had subjected that too was  _ John _ , made it ten thousand times worse. 

__

__ “John.. I’m.. I can’t..” Roger started, trying to express how he felt, but the words just weren’t coming to him, no matter how badly he wanted to. How did someone go about even beginning to say the things he wanted to say? He was equal parts happy and sad about this revelation. “I can’t believe it. I’m sorry.”

Apparently, John took those words in a way that Roger didn’t mean. 

“We are Roger! I swear I felt it when you fell!” Deaky leveled him with a look of determination. The blond didn’t disagree with that. His memory started to supply him with different scenes from the past, mostly from the last six months, that Roger had chalked up to coincidence. 

First, there were all of the electrocutions. The times where Roger felt a jolt of electricity pass through him made a hell of a lot of sense now. John was studying Electrical Engineering, and loved to tinker with and fix all sorts of devices. Of course he’d been shocked a fairly regular amount of times in the process.

Then there were the times where his fingers would hurt after a particularly hard practice. His hands usually hurt afterwards, but it tended to stay mostly in his palms and flat part of his fingers. His fingertips had started hurting on and off throughout the years, but had increased ever since Deaky had joined the band. Now he knew it was because John was pushing himself harder than he ever had before. He’d told Roger as much after the first few weeks of being with the band.

While this was all going through his head, John had apparently thought Roger was thinking of a way to deny it. The drummer probably looked like he might bolt at any second. It wasn’t out of fear of being with the brunet. It was because of the massive amount of guilt he felt for what John had to go through because of him. How could he face him with that knowledge? Not even Freddie or Brian knew about the details of his abuse. They only knew that his father had not been a good man, and that when he was fourteen, his father had finally gone away.

John knew about every single hit, kick, and throw that had happened. He had felt every single one of them. He didn’t need Roger to tell him, because he’d had to live it with him, bearing the brutal pain.

Suddenly, John’s arm lashed out, and his fist connected with the stone of the wall he was standing near. A sharp ache radiated up Roger’s arm, starting at his knuckles and traveling along his forearm in a shockwave. He knew that feeling. He’d punched a wall or two in his time.

“Ah fuck! What the bloody hell did you do that for you wanker?” Roger cried out as he cradled his hand against chest.

“You felt that! It’s true Rog!” John said in an exasperated tone mixed with just a bit of anger. He was getting tired of Roger not saying anything. Roger couldn’t blame him, but he also didn’t think he’d needed to stoop to that level. In any case, it did prove that it was real. No way for it to be a coincidence, when it was deliberate.

“I bloody well know it’s true!” Roger snapped back at John. He didn’t mean to be angry with John, but there was just so much going on at the same time. “I’m just.. I’m trying to process. This is sort of a big fucking deal!” He shook his hand, trying to dispel the lingering aches. It was a habit for him now, after feeling all of those shocks over the years.

John’s face changed from the slightly annoyed look, to one of sympathy as he moved in closer to Roger. He brought his hands up slowly, hesitating for a second before he rested them on the drummer’s shoulder, his thumbs pressing circles against Roger’s exposed collarbones in a soothing gesture. It felt good to Roger, having John’s skin against his. It always had, not that they’d spent a lot of time touching each other. Just the occasional graze of hands, or when leaning against each other when drunk. He had never told the bassist this, thinking it would have been weird to say something like that to the person who had become his best friend, and not wanting to ruin that.

“We can process it together Rog.” John said, his green-grey eyes locked onto Roger’s blue ones. His hands moved from the blond’s shoulders and grabbed onto his hands. “This is a shock for me too, you know. I never thought that my.. My soulmate.. Was going to be my best friend too.” 

Roger looked down at his and Deaky’s joined hands. They looked good together, John’s hands were large, with long fingers and covered in calluses from his tinkering projects and playing his bass. Roger’s hands were equally callused from playing his drums, and slightly smaller than John’s. Their fingers laced together, slotting in place like that was how they were meant to be. Roger supposed they were. Roger took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He held it for a moment and exhaled, opening his eyes again to look into John’s once again when his heart had calmed down.

“When I said I was sorry,” He began, and had to swallow down a lump that was forming in his throat. “I meant, I’m sorry that I’m your soulmate. I’m sorry that you had to feel all of those things.” His eyes felt hot as tears started to form in them. “I’m sorry that I.. I caused you so much pain, John.”

Deaky’s hands let go of Roger’s, and the blond immediately felt the absence of them. Now that he knew that the bassist was his soulmate, he never wanted to let him go, even if he still felt all of the guilt. He gasped slightly when John’s hands gently came to rest on either side of his face, the tears welling up in his eyes finally falling. The brunet’s thumbs wiped across his cheeks, catching the tears as they fell.

“It’s not your fault, Rog. It was never your fault. I know it wasn’t.” He pressed a fingertip over Roger’s lips when he was about to say something, and the blond had to bite back the urge to do something stupid, like lick his finger or something equally provocative. “I don’t know the details, but maybe someday you’ll tell me. What I know for sure, is that it was never your fault. I should be apologizing to you, for electrocuting you. That was a choice I made. I chose to work with electronics, and to tinker with things I knew were dangerous. That is worthy of an apology, not what you went through, sweetheart.”

Roger felt a shiver run down his spine at the nickname that John had called him. Sweetheart. He liked it, even though he didn’t feel like he deserved it.

“You should be sorry. I’m surprised you and I are still alive after some of those.” Rog said with a small laugh even as tears kept rolling down his cheeks. “I know you can’t die just from soulmate pain, but sometimes it felt like I could.” He reached his own hands out to rest on Deaky’s waist, his hands fitting there perfectly, like he knew they would.

The brunet let out a laugh of his own, showing the little gap between his front teeth. “I told you, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Roger looked at the now smiling face of his soulmate, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against John’s, and a giddy sense of relief ran through him, when he felt John kiss him back.


	4. When Your Plans Go Wrong, And You Turn Out The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger makes a proposal, and things between the pair accelerate more quickly than they had anticipated.

Roger had never put much thought into what his soulmate might look like, or smell like, or their personality. Hell, he rarely thought about what gender they might be. He’d grown up in the era of the hippies, where free love was held in the highest regard, and Roger was definitely on board with that ideal, even if his father was patently against it. He was against most things in life that weren’t exactly to his liking. Roger chose not to dwell on that fact though.

The drummer found himself to be incredibly lucky in having John as his soulmate, in every aspect. When he looked at the younger man, he didn’t think about how hot the man was or how good of a shag he might be like he had his various partners in the past. John was definitely good looking and Roger had a feeling that the outwardly shy and somewhat innocent seeming man would be a wildcat in bed. When he looked at the bassist, he saw someone who understood him. Someone who had felt the pain that Roger had been subjected to, and instead of resenting him for it, cared more about him for it.

The pair finished packing up Roger’s kit into his van soon after their revelation, and the kiss that had sent both men spiraling into dizzy happiness. Much as John was loath to admit it, he really did have studying to do, even if all he truly wanted to do was stay with Roger. 

John reached out across the front seat of the van and entwined his fingers with the blond, keeping their hands laid on the seat while the drummer drove the pair back towards John’s flat. Occasionally, Roger let go of John to shift gears, but immediately took his hand again afterwards. 

There were thoughts moving around in John’s head, ones that had been in his mind right after they kissed. He knew he had to voice them, even though he didn’t want to break the little bubble of happiness they’d been in.

“Rog.. what are we going to tell Brian and Freddie? Or.. anyone else?” His fingers squeezed more firmly around the blond’s. His voice was quiet, hardly more than a whisper as if anyone could hear them while tucked away in Roger’s van. 

Roger was quiet for a few moments, his eyes scanning the road ahead. “I don’t know, Deaky. For now, we won’t say anything until we can figure out what we need to do. As much as I would love to shout it from the rooftops that you’re my soulmate.” He looked over at John, flashing him one of those brilliant smiles before looking back to the road. “We need to figure out where we stand before we go saying anything.”

“Where we stand? In what way Rog?” John said, confusion coloring his features. “We’re soulmates, that’s where we are.”

Roger gave a sigh, and took a moment to organize his thoughts while he drove. They’d be at Deaky’s flat soon, and their time would be cut short. “I mean, how we feel about telling people. There’s the band to think of. We’re making such good progress, getting bigger and better gigs all the time. Not everyone thinks the way that you and I do, and hell how I’m sure Brian and Freddie do.” There was no question in his mind that they would tell Freddie and Brian about this development, maybe just not right away. “And we need to get used to.. Well being with each other that way.” He squeezed John’s hand again.

Deaky nodded in agreement. It certainly was a lot to take in, but they’d been best friends since almost the moment they had met. He hoped the transition to being  _ more  _ wouldn’t be that difficult. They’d still be best friends, they would just be best friends who kissed and held hands and did.. Other things. John felt a blush creep into his cheeks when he thought about the possibilities beyond just kissing. Doing  _ that _ with his best friend and bandmate had never been something to cross his mind, but now that it had he was curious to know what it would feel like.

From all the stories he’d heard Roger tell over the last several months, and the occasional butting in of Brian and Freddie, John imagined him to be a generous lover. He squirmed slightly in his seat, trying to pull his thoughts back to the present and away from those types of thoughts. He’d explore them later, at night, when he was alone. And at some point in the future with Roger.

The pair pulled into a parking spot just a little bit away from the entrance to John’s flat, and Roger and John shared another look. 

“What am I supposed to call you?” Roger blurted out suddenly.

“John, or Deaky is fine too.” John deadpanned. “I’m also fond of Your Excellence.”

Roger rolled his eyes, but still smiled at the sassy comeback. He should have expected nothing less. 

“I mean,” Roger continued on, his thumb gently rubbing against the back of John’s large hand, “What are you to me? I know you’re my soulmate, and god I love that, but.. Are you my boyfriend? How do you define this?”

John thought for a moment before shrugging. “I think soulmate fits. How much deeper of a connection can you have than that? But I guess if you want to label it something else then you’ll just have to ask me.” He said the last part with a coy little smile.

“Ask you?” Roger said, his turn now to look confused. John didn’t answer him, he just kept smiling that little gap toothed grin, looking expectant. It hit Roger suddenly. He needed to  _ ask _ John. He coughed a bit and turned on the seat a bit so that he was facing John more, who mirrored him. “John Richard Deacon, it would be an absolute pleasure and honor if you would agree to be my boyfriend.”

John sputtered out a laugh at the totally formal way that Roger had asked him that question. He had done just as the brunet had requested of him, in the most comical way he could.

“Come on Deaky, don’t leave me in suspense!” The blond pouted as the bassist continued to laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling and pure joy radiating from him.

“Yes Rog, of course. The answer is yes!” John said through his laughter. He looked out through the windows of the van, checking to see that the coast was clear and then leaned in to give Roger another sweet, toe curling kiss. 

John pulled away and opened up his door, pulling his hand from Roger’s reluctantly. He really did need to get some studying done. “Come on boyfriend, help me get my stuff out of the back.”

As sad as Roger was to have to part from Deaky, he smiled at being called boyfriend by his soulmate. “Yes, love.” Roger said, as if they were some old married couple. He hopped out of his side of the van after turning it off, with keys in hand so he could unlock the back.

Once John had removed his bass, and amp, strapping them on to himself to carry them up the stairs to his shared flat, Roger closed and locked the back doors of the van.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” Roger said, his hands fidgeting with the keys in his hands. The urge to reach out and touch John was strong, but he held himself back while out on the street.

“Tomorrow night?” John said with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Freddie’s party, remember? He wants us all there ‘celebrate the cats’ birthday.’” Roger said, using air quotations as he spoke.

“Any excuse to throw a bash.” John said with an eyeroll. He remembered now that Freddie had invited him earlier at practice, and the brunet couldn’t turn the man down. Freddie would never have let him get out of it anyways, if he’d had to drag John there by the ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then, Rog.” John smiled and reached out and squeezed Roger’s shoulder, brushing his thumb against his collarbone like he had earlier after practice. It was the only touch he could dare to give out in public like this.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get absolutely smashed. I’ll even let you crash in my room.” Roger gave another one of those patented cheeky smiles.

“Oh the horror, whatever shall I do? Forced to share a room with you, god forbid!” John said with as straight a face as he could muster. He let go of Roger’s shoulder and turned away, still smiling as he climbed up to his flat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger checked the clock on the wall before taking another sip of his drink. The party had started nearly an hour ago and John was nowhere to be found. He was starting to get worried, because even though he knew that parties weren’t exactly Deaky’s scene, he would have shown up for Freddie’s sake. And Roger’s too.

Roger had been approached by no less than three of the party guests, all female, who had tried to chat him up. He’d been polite as he could, while still shooting them down, telling them that he was taken and had every intention to stay faithful. A few moments later into his contemplation, one of the party guests came up to him and said “There’s a guy on the phone for you, says his name’s Deaky?”

They must have been standing next to the phone when it was ringing, that was the only way they could have heard it over the sound of the music. Roger certainly hadn;t heard it from where he was in the living room. 

He scurried over to the phone, and grabbed it.

“Deaky, you there?” He said loudly, trying to be heard over the din surrounding him.

“Rog, need you.. Roommate.. Evicted .. leave immediately..” Roger could only make out a few of the words that John said, but none of them sounded good. The words ‘evicted’ and ‘leave immediately’ rang through him. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, stay put. I’m on my way!” Roger practically shouted over the line. He ran into his room and grabbed a jacket and his keys from his desk. John had sounded distressed over the phone, and Roger was not about to waste time. He’d only had the one beer so far, trying to wait for John to arrive to have any real fun. He rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Freddie along the way.

“Rog, what’s wrong, where are you going?” He said, his dark brows furrowed in confusion, “And where’s John? He should have been here a while ago.”

“He just rang, there’s something wrong over at his place. I’ll be back once it’s sorted out.” He had to shout to be heard.

“I should come with you then.” Freddie said, setting his drink down, going into Big Brother mode upon hearing his friend was in trouble.

“No! You stay here, keep everything under control, though from what it sounded like Deaky might not be in the party mood.” Roger said, gesturing around to the loudly laughing guests and music.

Freddie nodded. “Well, then, go take care of our bassist and I’ll try to get this to wind down.”

Freddie was taking this very seriously. He was not one to stop a party for anything, but his allegiance to the youngest member of the band was something that might just trump that. Roger dashed out the door and to the car park that served his flat building, hurtling himself behind the wheel and starting up the engine before his door was fully closed.

“I’m on my way, love.” He said under his breath as he turned out onto the street.

The drive seemed to take longer than it needed to, but that was probably Roger’s anxiety over the whole matter making it seem that way. When he turned on to John’s street it was easy to pick out which building was his, and not even from Roger’s memory of its location. There, on the sidewalk, stood John. He was surrounded by piles of boxes and bags, his bass in its case and his homemade amp. He was arguing with another bloke, that Roger knew to be the guy he was sharing the flat with, who was surrounded by his own pile of belonging.

He pulled up, the tires almost screeching as he came up right next to the pair that he could now hear shouting through his van windows. He hopped out of the van, now able to hear what the two were going on about at each other.

“You were bloody idiot Mark! That’s why! How could you be so incredibly stupid?” This was a whole new side to Deaky that Roger had never seen before. He was always so calm, and collected. He never raised his voice, and even when he did argue it was always with a cool head. He was persuasive, not combatant. 

“And you’re a bloody saint are you John?” Mark yelled back at him. “Can’t all be as perfect as John Deacon can we? I made one fucking screw up. One! It was an accident!”

Roger’s eyes bounced back and forth between the two like he was watching a tennis match, except instead of a ball, insults and accusations were being flung back and forth. He felt heat flare up inside of him, a hot fiery anger directed at the man trying to insult his soulmate. 

“Anyone want to tell me what the hell happened and why I’m here?” It was very well apparent why he was here. They’d been kicked out of the flat for a yet unknown to Roger reason, and John needed a way to get out of there.

“Oh thank fuck, Rog. I’m glad you’re here. Please, I need you to help me load up my stuff and get the hell away from this lunatic!” John’s voice had softened when he spoke to the blond.

“Lunatic? I told you it was an accident! I didn’t take down the power from the building on purpose you bloody wanker!” Mark yelled out again, and Roger turned and gave the man a withering glare.

“If you so much as say another word to John, I’ll take that toolkit over there and shove it so far up your arse, you’ll be tasting metal for the rest of your miserable life.” Roger’s voice had more bite to it than he had intended. Mark’s face turned a very bright shade of fuschia and he looked intent on giving some sort of comeback, but now faced with the prospect of being ganged up on by both Roger and John he wisely backed down.

“Come one Rog, he’s not worth it, let’s just.. Pack it all up and go. I’ll figure out what to do when we’re done.” John said as he picked up the first box and carried it to the back of the van. Roger followed, and unlocked the back doors. 

They continued in silence, giving the occasional glare in Mark’s direction. Apparently whoever he had called for a ride was still on their way, either from farther away or not as enthusiastic about retrieving the dumbass. Roger was betting on the latter. They finally managed to get it all packed away in the van around Roger’s drum kit, and they clambered up into the front of the van without another word to Mark the idiot. Roger started up the vehicle and with a flip of two fingers to the dude still stranded on the sidewalk, surrounded by his belongings, he drove off into the night.

Deaky slouched down in his seat, eaning against the door and pressing his forehead to the cool glass, the sigh of his breath fogging up the window. Roger reached across the seat and laced his fingers with John’s and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What happened, baby?” He said softly as he steered through the streets, not in as much of a rush as he had been to get to John. He wanted this time alone with the brunet, now that he had him, and before he’d need to share him with Freddie.

“You know Mark is another Engineering student like I am right?” Roger nodded as John spoke, and the bassist turned his head so that those green-grey eyes were focused on the blond while he concentrated on the road, his profile lighting up as they passed under the orange-yellow streetlights. “He’s good. Not as good as I am, but decent enough.” It wasn’t a boast or a gloat. It was the simple truth. John was a genius with electronics, willing to put himself on the line to learn. Roger knew that first hand from all of the shocks he’d gotten over the years. “We’d been having problems with a couple of the lights, you know, flickering and going out. There was a bad connection somewhere in the line, and that moron tried to fix it while I was at university today. Problem is, the idiot did something that caused the electricity to go out in the whole building. I’m not even sure how he did it.” John was on a tirade now. “I mean, he knew it was something out of his scope and he did it anyways, just trying to prove he could, and the landlord knew we were both electrical engineering students and that we’d been having problems. They’d kept saying they’d send someone out but never did. It wasn’t a huge leap for them to figure out where the problem was.”

John rubbed a hand against his face, and Roger gave the brunet a sympathetic look. 

“I’m sorry, love. You’re right, he is a bloody moron. At least now you don’t have to put up with him outside of lectures.” A wicked smile crossed his face. “Maybe you could go to the headmaster and get him expelled for being so dumb.”

John laughed softly. “Oh if only it were that simple. I expect half the school would be emptied out on the premise of being idiots who do dumb things.” His face turned serious again and he returned his gaze to the road, watching people on the sidewalks as they drove by. “God, now I have to find somewhere else to live. How the hell am I gonna find a place on such short notice?”

“You’ll live with me and Freddie of course.” Roger stated it, like it was a fact, a given. It wasn’t a question and garnered no push back.

“I don’t want to impose on you guys.” John said, but only halfheartedly. It was the best solution he had right now, and truth be told, he wanted to be closer to Roger. The idea had come up before, when John mentioned that his lease at the recently vacated flat was coming up in the next few months. 

“What imposition? You’re my soulmate. You can stay in my room, and I’m sure Freddie will love having someone else around to play Scrabble with, and someone who can cook.”

John smiled. “I take it you guys just gave up after the egg incident?”

“You said you’d not bring it up again!” Roger pouted. “It was a small fire, easily contained! We didn’t even have to call emergency services!”

“I’m teasing you, sweetheart.” John said as he brought their joined hands up to his lips and gave Roger’s knuckles a small kiss.

“You’re moving in with us, and that’s final.” Roger said with an air of finality. That was that. John had been homeless for less than three hours, and now he was looking forward to sharing with his soulmate and one of his best friends. Life was good.


	5. Let The Sweetness Of Love Wipe The Tears From Your Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John moves in with Roger and Freddie, and John and Roger have a much needed discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I want you all to know that I got The Feels while writing this, so I hope you like it.  
> TW: mentions of abuse

They drove in silence the rest of the way home, both men lost in their own thoughts until the van pulled into the car park next to the flat building.

Before getting out of the van, Roger leaned over and gave John one more quick kiss, using one hand to sweep a lock of dark hair away from the younger man’s face. 

“Come on then, grab your bass and amp, and anything essential. We can bring up the rest tomorrow morning.”

The pair hopped out of the van, and moved around back, tugging out John’s bass in its case along with the amp, and a small bag that held the brunet’s toiletries. Roger almost felt honored when John passed him the amp to carry. Deaky treated that thing almost like Brian did his guitar. It was made out of things he’d found in rubbish bins, but it was a treasure to the man all the same.

When the pair made it up the stairs to Roger and Freddie - and now John’s- flat, it seemed like the party had been cleared out. There was no sound of music or loud voices coming from behind the door. Freddie had made good on his promise, and Roger was sure that Brian would probably still be around as well. The singer had most likely told him the little he knew of the situation and enlisted him in helping. The guitarist was just as protective of his band mates as the singer was. They were each other’s family.

Roger unlocked the door and let him and John in, calling out into the flat. “We’re back!”

Freddie’s head almost immediately popped out of the kitchen, and noticed the fact that Deaky and Roger held some of the youngest man’s belongings.

“Oh, darling what happened!” He fretted as he came out and ushered Deaky further into the flat. Roger rolled his eyes fondly. Now the mother henning would begin. 

“Give me that Deaks, I’ll put them in my room. I’m sure Freddie has tea going.” Roger said with a small smirk as he took John’s bass and bag of toiletries from him. 

Freddie did indeed lead John into the kitchen, where Brian was still stuffing used plastic cups into a rubbish bag, and putting away various bottles of liquor that had been scattered about. The kettle was on the stove, and the makings for tea were already laid out on the counter.

“Now tell us dear, what happened?” Freddie said as he flicked the hob under the kettle on.

“Yeah mate, all Freddie said was that Roger had to rush out to find you, and to help him clear out the flat.” Brian spoke while he shoved the last of the garbage into a bag and set it by the kitchen door to be taken out later.

John rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned against a counter while he gave the same rundown to both of the men that he had given Roger in the van on the way back. By the time he’d finished the story of Mark The Idiot, Roger had returned from his room, sans jacket and had taken up a post next to the brunet. Freddie had finished making the tea and had passed cups to each of the men, who drank it slowly.

“Of course you’ll stay here with us Deaky.” Freddie said with as much conviction as Roger had. Brian lived in school housing, provided by the college while he worked on his PhD, and was barely better than a dorm room so was not an option in any case.

“That’s what Rog said,” John gave a small smile. 

“Yeah, he’ll bunk with me. He already knows what it’s like to share space with me.” Roger said, remembering how they’d shared rooms for when they did gigs further away from London. This time though, they’d be sharing more than just a room. They would be sharing a bed as well, and now they had the knowledge of what they were to each other on top of that, though Brian and Freddie were still in the dark about it. 

“Yeah, his idea of tidy means you can see the floor and the sheets are actually on the bed.” John deadpanned.

“Hey!” Roger gave a playful shove to John’s shoulder. “I am not that bad! Not to mention, now that we’re roomies, you can help me keep things organized!”

John rolled his eyes fondly at the blond before finishing the tea in his cup, now lukewarm.

“We should celebrate John moving in with us!” Freddie said with a big grin.

“Didn’t we just clear out the flat?” Brian said with a sigh, not enthusiastic about the idea of another party. Not to mention that it would be a hassle to get everyone to come back.

“I meant we could celebrate with some drinks and Scrabble!” Freddie said with an even bigger grin on his face.

The other three men in the room all groaned in unison. Scrabble with Freddie was always an event. Most people thought it was a boring game, but they had never played with the charismatic singer. They had begun to refer to it as Death Scrabble and the games were legendary as far as the band was concerned. They knew there was no getting out of it. If they tried to protest, Freddie would just badger and cajole them until they gave in. 

It was at least a few hours later and three games in that everyone finally gave up. John and Roger had teamed up against Freddie and Brian and each pair had won a game, forcing them into a tiebreaker game that turned into a bloody battle worthy of the history books. In the end, Freddie and Brian had been triumphant, but only just.

If Roger and John were being more touchy and affectionate with each other than usual, neither Freddie nor Brian noticed.

It was late into the night, and Brian said his farewells and left when Freddie retired to his room, giving John a hug after once again welcoming the bassist home. The brunet grabbed his toiletry bag from Roger’s room, and did his business in the bathroom. Once he was freshly showered, his teeth brushed, and changed into a spare set of Roger’s pyjamas, he settled himself on the bed just under the small window while he waited for Roger to return from his turn at the loo.

Roger shut the door, a towel still draped over his head, and he rubbed at it, trying to get rid of as much of the dampness as he could before climbing into the bed next to John. The pair settled in, slotting in against one another like they’d done it a thousand times before. Roger spooned up against John’s back, legs tangled together, with an arm around his waist. The younger man linked their fingers together against his chest with a content sigh. 

“Night, Rog.” John said through a yawn, his body wriggling a little bit as he settled more deeply into the bed. 

“Sweet dreams, Deaky.” Roger replied just as sleepily before planting a kiss against the top of John’s shoulder.

John woke up a few hours later to jolt of pain coming from his foot. He sat bolt upright in bed, that small twinge of panic rearing up inside of him. He had grown used to being woken up from sleep with pain when he was a child. He now knew it had been Roger’s pain from being abused that had been the culprit. It had a lasting effect on the young man. Every time he was woken up from some sort of pain, the old fear had come back to him. It was the fear that his soulmate was being hurt and John couldn’t do anything about it except suffer along with him. 

He looked around the room, everything slowly coming back to him as the panic began to recede. He wasn’t in his childhood bedroom, or the room of the flat he had until recently shared with Mark the Idiot. He was in Roger’s room in the flat he shared with Freddie. It was John’s room now, too. He was with the blond man, his boyfriend. His  _ soulmate _ . The one whose pain he had shared for nearly two decades at this point. 

A breath of relief washed through him. Roger had probably just gotten up to have a wee, didn’t bother to turn on the lights, and had probably just stubbed his toe on the way. He was still sitting up in bed when the drummer limped back into the bedroom, muttering curses under his breath. He was probably trying to be quiet so as to not wake John, but that had gone out the window the second he’d stubbed his big toe on the doorframe of the loo while making his way back. 

“You really should turn the lights on, sweetheart.” John said, startling the blond man who hadn’t yet noticed that his lover was sitting up in the darkness. Roger let out a surprised yelp and almost fell off the bed that he was already halfway into. The blond had pretty poor eyesight, all things considered, and John thought it was a miracle he hadn’t yet crashed his van. Roger was a careful driver though, treating his van like it was his baby. He made fun of John and Brian for their consideration of their equipment, yet he was almost as bad about that vehicle.

“I don’t need light to take a piss, love.” He grumbled as the two men settled back into bed, this time with Roger on his back, and Deaky with his head resting against his chest, listening to the sound of his soulmate’s heart beating. It was reassuring to hear the thumping noise. Roger was  _ right here _ . He couldn’t be hurt again, not the same way he had been before. John was making good on the promise he’d made to himself. The blond was right here in his arms, and he would be damned if he ever let anyone hurt him like that again. 

“No, but when you get hurt, I get hurt. Woke me up.” His arm tightened around Roger’s midsection, and the ‘just like when we were kids’ was left unspoken. John felt the drummer’s own arm tighten around him, and a kiss was pressed to the top of his head. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll turn on the lights next time.” Roger’s voice was thick. John couldn’t tell if it was from emotion or sleepiness, or maybe a combination of both. His heart did swell at the blond calling him baby. John slotted one of his legs between Roger’s, tangling them even tighter together. 

They both lay in the dark, neither one quite as tired as they had been before. The thoughts that had come back into both of them kept circling around inside of them, not allowing their brains to settle down.

“Rog?” John spoke softly into the quiet room. His voice was a little muffled bay being pressed into the man’s chest.

“Hmm?” was Roger’s answer. The arm wrapped around John moved up so that fingers ran gently through his wavy brown locks.

“When I woke up,” John started slowly. He knew this would be difficult to talk about, but he didn’t want to keep anything from Roger. He could only hope that it would encourage his boyfriend to talk about his own issues at some point. “I was scared. I remembered being a kid, and.. And being woken up like that. From pain across the bond.” His hand began to run up and down along Roger’s side in a soothing gesture. “Then I remembered where I was, and who I was with. And fuck, I’m just so glad I’m here with you now.” He didn’t know exactly when he’d started to cry, but Roger’s shirt beneath him felt warm and wet with his tears.

“I’m so sorry, John.” Roger said before planting another kiss to the top of the bassist’s head. John turned his face up and saw a glint of tears on the blond’s face in the moonlight. He was staring up at the ceiling, and the brunet could almost see the guilt running through Roger’s brain again. He reached a hand up and rested it against the side of the man’s face, his thumb brushing away the tears there. “I didn’t mean to cause you so much pain. Bloody hell, it’s still hurting you. Fuck!”

This type of pain John couldn’t feel. Only physical pain came through the bond, but fucking hell, John wished he could feel it and take it away from Roger. He hoped that someday, the man would stop feeling so guilty about something he had no control over. He moved himself further up, positioning himself so that he was propped over Roger, looking down at him with his long hair creating a curtain around them. 

“Roger, I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again as many times as it takes for it to get through that hard head of yours. It was not your fault. It was never your fault, my love.” John’s hand ran up along Roger’s side, over his chest and back up to his face. “I just wanted you to know how I felt. That’s part of being in a relationship Roger. You share things, the good and the bad.” John’s expression turned contemplative as he studied the blond man’s face. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight, his golden hair tinted silver in a halo around him. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s why we feel each other’s pain. So we can know the bad, the worst of what happens to each other, so we can appreciate the good all that much more.”

More tears fell from Roger’s eyes. There was something about this moment that made Roger’s walls come down. Maybe it was the darkness of the room, or the tenderness of John’s hand against his cheek, or the words that his soulmate had said to him.

“But you were forced to feel something that you had no control over. You were  _ tortured _ John. By me, because of me. You are so.. So beautiful, and kind, and funny, and sweet and too good for me. How can I ever make up for what you were subjected to because of something neither of us could control?”

“Oh, honey.” John said with a voice so tender it made fresh tears spill from Roger’s eyes. “You don’t have to make anything up to me. Not for that, not ever. Please, don’t cry.” The brunet’s voice cracked, and he felt his own hot tears pour down his face. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Roger’s, neither man minding the salty taste that was on their lips.

When John pulled back, Roger sucked in a deep breath, his brain swirling with so many emotions it was hard to name them all. When he spoke it was barely above a whisper.

“The night..” His voice broke a little and he swallowed deeply before reaching a hand up and tucking his boyfriend’s hair behind his ear. “The night I fought back, it was you who I was thinking about. Well, not  _ you _ , but my soulmate. I was thinking about you, and my mum, and Clare.” He placed each of his hands on the sides of John’s face as his lip trembled. “There had been so much pain for all of us, and I just knew it had to stop. I was old enough then, strong enough to fight back. You gave me strength, the idea of you at least. I couldn’t let my soulmate feel that anymore, not when I had the ability to stop it.”

There were no words, and all John could do was lean back down for another kiss. They shifted so that they were both laying on their sides, arms wrapped tightly around each other, clinging on like their lives depended on it. The kiss was needy, and desperate, and so filled with emotion as they poured everything into each other. It was a clash of lips, tongue and teeth as they let their hearts spill over. It felt like hours later when they finally pulled apart, chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. They gave each other small pecks, even then, not wanting to stay apart.

“I love you, Roger Meddows Taylor. From the first moment I felt you.” And he did. John had loved Roger from the very first time he’d felt the first pain of a hit to his soulmate. Finding him, and knowing him before realizing they were soulmates only solidified that feeling. This was his best friend, and that only made the connection feel more right.

“I love you, John Richard Deacon. I always have, even when you were electrocuting me.” The same was true for Roger. He had loved John before ever knowing him. Loved him for being his, and loved him for not being angry about the pain.

The two men curled into one another once again, John tucked up under Roger’s chin, and they fell asleep with smiles on their faces as they let those words pulse through their veins.


	6. You Put Up A Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Brian find out about John and Roger in the worst way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here’s the latest installment, get out the tissues because it’s gonna be a bumpy one.
> 
> Tw: violence, homophobia

John and Roger found it easy to be together. It really wasn’t any different than they had been before. They were best friends already, but now they kissed and shared a bed. They had agreed to not take it farther than that just yet. Not to mention, it was hard to get any sort of alone time while having Freddie living at the flat. After several weeks of John becoming the third roommate in the small flat, Freddie and Brian were both still unaware of the change in the relationship between the two youngest members of the band. 

They didn’t treat each other any differently than they had before. The only thing that seemed out of place was that Roger had apparently stopped trying to shag his way through the female population of greater London. It had given Freddie and Brian pause when they saw Roger turn down an advance first hand at a pub one night. John had to turn his face away and bring his drink up to his lips to hide the smile that had tried to grow across his lips at their confused expressions, and their quiet murmurings to each other.

“Do you think he’s sick? That’s not like Rog to turn down a pretty girl.” Brian had said to Freddie after watching the blond shut down an attempt at flirting by an attractive blond woman in a very small skirt. 

“Maybe his rates have gone up.” Freddie said with a shrug, and a cheeky grin.

“Oi, I can hear you.” Roger said from his place next to John. in their booth “And if you must know, I’d rather focus on my mates than some skirt for a while. Is that so awful?” He said with a scowl towards the drummer and the guitarist. “Not to mention, I’m taking home Deaky.” The unhappy look turned into a little smirk as he said those words.

John almost choked on his drink at those words. He coughed a bit, and Roger slapped his back a couple of times, looking somewhere between amused and concerned.

“I’m alright. If I’d known you were going to try to get in my pants, I’d have made you buy the first round.” John said once he’d recovered from the coughing fit. Cover it all with a joke. The guys will never suspect.

Freddie and Brian did, indeed, laugh at that. They had successfully thrown them off the trail for the moment. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to tell the other two men. They just didn’t know how to tackle the subject with them. It would be weird to just blurt it all out, but they couldn;t really drop hints either. They both hated feeling like they were lying, but this wasn’t exactly a normal situation.

The band was finally getting somewhere. A record deal was on the horizon. The gigs were getting bigger and better, and were paying more. They couldn’t jeopardize that with people knowing about them. Not yet in any case. 

It was sooner, rather than later when the truth would finally come out, and in one of the worst ways possible.

The gig they’d played had been hugely successful in their own eyes. The hall had been packed with people who had all come to see the set of bands that had been lined up for the night. It wasn’t like a pub gig where people were drinking, and coming and going. It had been more of a concert than anything with local bands all getting paid to come perform for a university bash.

The guys had dressed up to the nines, as well as they could, and had been a smash hit. People were dancing and laughing, and Freddie was engaging them all. They were practically eating out of his hand by the end of their performance. 

They didn’t stick around afterwards, though. Instead deciding to head to a club just down the road from the hall once they’d changed out of their performance clothes and into more street appropriate attire. 

The inside of the club was filled with flashing lights, pop and disco music, and so many bodies smashed in together. Brian wasn’t a huge fan of these kinds of places and crowds, but went along with the band anyways, if for no other reason than to keep Freddie and John the Dancing Queens happy. Roger just liked being surrounded by people having a good time, and now more than ever, he loved to watch John out on the dance floor. He was graceful and looked so joyous when he was moving to the music. In a club like this, he could just watch him without having to worry about staying on beat with his drums. Watching John bop around on stage was quite distracting at times.

A couple of drinks in, Roger found himself out in the middle of the club, his arms around John as they bounced around to the music in the sway of warm bodies. Freddie was taking a break from dancing, and was hanging out with Brian off to the side. John and Roger laughed at how silly they felt, partly from the alcohol and partly from the surreal feeling of the moment. John and Roger were wrapped around each other in the middle of a throng of people and nobody noticed, or cared. They were just a couple of mates having a good time after a couple of drinks. If they’d been sober, they probably would have felt differently, but in their slightly inebriated state, seeing the other drunk people around them in the close crush gave them a small sense of freedom. 

It wasn’t enough to make them do something so idiotic as to kiss each other, but they allowed themselves to be closer than they would otherwise. 

“Need a smoke!” Roger nearly shouted into John’s ear, and the brunet gave him a smile and nod in reply. 

“I’m going to grab another drink, then I’ll join you.” John said in reply. “Grab you one too?”

Roger nodded and gave the younger man a cheeky grin. His boyfriend was so thoughtful in addition to being beautiful, and smart, and funny. They parted, but not before Roger grabbed John’s hand and laced their fingers together for just a moment.

John watched as the blond wove through the crowd towards the side door that led to the alley. He grinned like a mad man, feeling like he was the luckiest person in the world.

John made his way towards the bar, and found Freddie and Brian there, getting new drinks of their own. He flagged down the bartender and ordered a couple of beers for Roger and himself before turning to the other members of the band.

“Brian, one dance won’t hurt!” Freddie said in a way that told John this was far from the first time he’d uttered those words this evening.

“Remember the last time you dragged me on to a dance floor?” Brian said with a huff. “Because sometimes I still feel phantom pains.” He unconsciously rubbed at his hip. This was a story that John hadn’t heard before.

The bartender had just passed him the bottles and John was going to ask Freddie and Brian to join him and Roger outside to get the full tale, when a sudden pain ripped through him. It felt like something had slammed into his gut, and then in his face. The bottles that were in his hands fell to the floor and broke, spraying beer foam across the floor and the three men’s legs.

“Deaky, what’s wrong?” Freddie said as he saw the youngest member of the band drop the beer bottles, and the anguish that crossed his face. His drive to protect John led him to take hold of his shoulders.

John’s eyes were wild and another pained look crossed his face when he felt his knuckles ache. Roger was fighting. He was being hurt, and he was here somewhere. The alley. He’d gone out for a smoke. The only thing that he could think of was finding Roger, of getting to him.

“We have to get to Roger.” He said in a rush, as he brushed Freddie’s hands from his shoulders and took off across the club as quickly as he could. He didn’t look behind him to see if the other two were behind him. He hoped they were, but he wouldn’t hold it against them if they weren’t. John had just said and done something crazy. Who would follow a crazy person?

He pushed his way through the crowd, not caring about any pleasantries at the moment. He found the side door that Roger had taken and shoved his way through it. His eyes darted wildly around the alley, all while pains kept happening. His face, his side, his hands, they were all hurting.

Down the alley, in the darkness created between lights, John saw them. There were three big blokes, two of which were holding Roger between them while the third looked like he was winding up to deliver another blow. They were tall and broad. Not muscular, just built like brick shithouses. There was blood on Roger’s face, on his nose, lips, and temple. Even through that, the look on his face was that of defiance.

John’s vision turned red, and a high pitched sound rang through his brain. This was pure, unadulterated rage. Everything else around him ceased to exist as he watched in almost slow motion as one more punch landed on his boyfriend’s ribcage. The pain radiated through him, but it didn’t matter. He had to  _ make it stop _ .

“Let him go!” John shouted out as he ran forward, fueled purely by the need to protect his soulmate. He slammed into the guy who had been hitting Roger, wrapping his arms around the guy’s neck and pulling him back, trying to take him off balance.

“John!” Roger shouted out as the guy slammed an elbow back against John’s stomach, causing first hand pain to move through him and into Roger. John let go of the guy, and once the man turned around the brunet didn’t even think about it. He balled his hand into a fist and landed a punch directly to the guy’s nose. It hurt way worse than hitting a wall, but John couldn’t care less at the moment. He looked around the guy and saw that Freddie and Brian had followed him after all, and were on the other two men, getting them to release Roger.

John was thrown off when a punch came his way. He tried to dodge but still got clipped on the side, and he threw another punch of his own, landing it on the side of the guy’s head.

“Let’s go mate!” An unfamiliar voice said, and the guy in front of him growled low. He spat on the ground in front of John and turned around to follow his mates who had wised up faster than he did. They both realised they were now outnumbered, and even if the members of Queen weren’t big like they were, they’d still be able to run to get back up.

“Fucking fairies! Lucky you ain’t dead!” He said as he and the other two men took off down the alley.

John’s chest heaved as he breathed, adrenaline still rushing through him. He ran over to where Roger was standing, Freddie and Brian already fussing over him. He pushed past them and gently took Roger’s face between his hands. He studied the blond’s face, noting that he had a cut on his temple, and a split lip. One eye was beginning to swell, but at least they’d avoided hitting his nose.

“Oh sweetheart, look what they did to you.” John said as tears began to fill his eyes. He could still feel pains in his ribs, and gut as well as on his face. Roger was still in a lot of pain, and felt worse than he looked.

“I’m ok baby, nothing feels broken. Are you alright?” Roger said back, his own hands coming up to grip John’s wrists.

“I’m not the one who was getting beaten up! What happened?” John said a little more frantically. 

“We’d like to know the answers to that too.” Said a voice from behind them. Freddie. Shit.

“And a few others that the answers to will be very enlightening.” Brian said with a small scowl on his face.

They reminded John a lot of parents scolding their children. It was not a fun feeling at all.

John’s hands stayed on Roger’s face and he looked over his shoulder to see that they hadn’t escaped unscathed either. Brian was rubbing at his shoulder, and Freddie’s shirt had been torn in the scuffle.

John turned back to face Roger, and the blond nodded at him. They couldn’t hide it anymore, but this alley way was not the best place to have this particular chat. John leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Roger’s lightly before pulling back, and away.

“Let’s go back to the flat, and we can talk about it there.” John said, his voice trying to be neutral. He wiped his face to rid it of the tear tracks before wrapping an arm around Roger to help him walk back to the van.

Brian drove the group back to Freddie, Roger and John’s flat. He was the most sober of the three who were able to drive, and also the least injured. The ride was silent, broken only by the soft sound of music playing through the radio. John and Roger sat in the back, huddled up against each other, not even bothering to hide that their hands were connected between them.

The four of them trooped up the flat, where John and Roger were promptly instructed to sit on the couch, while Brian fetched the plasters, flannels, and antibiotic cream from the bathroom, while Freddie put the kettle on for tea. The group were still silent as they began to dress their wounds. Well, Brian cleaned up Roger’s face, while John cleaned up his knuckles that had been split open by his hits to the guy who had been beating on Roger.

By the time they’d been bandaged up, Freddie returned with four mugs of tea. Once they were all settled, with tea in hand, the inquisition began.

“What happened out there Rog?” Surprisingly, it was John who asked the first question. He was aching to know what had happened to Roger, and how his soulmate had ended up in that position. If the brute’s last words were anything to go by, it had to have been something to do with them somehow knowing that his boyfriend was his boyfriend.

Roger let out a long sighed and winced as the deep breath stretched his ribs. They were still tender from being hit.

“They saw us at the show, and they already didn’t think too highly of us.” He said before taking a sip from his mug. “Then they happened to be at the same club afterwards. They saw John and I dancing, and when they caught me alone, they let me know just how  _ disgusting _ they thought we were. I told them where they could shove it, and that didn’t exactly go over well did it?”

John’s heart sank. He and Roger hadn’t been careful enough it seemed. They thought in the darkness of the club, and the mass of bodies, two drunk men dancing together wouldn’t look out of place. These men had already seen them, and had drawn their own conclusions. They had been right, but they were also ready to believe it. They were the type who thought John and Roger were wrong, and even if they hadn’t been right in their assumption, it was still an atrocious thing to do to someone.

John wrapped an arm around Roger’s shoulder and pulled him in closer, resting his cheek against the top of the blond head. “You should have come back inside, honey. We would have left.”

“I tried, John. They were so fucking intent on proving that they were some holier than thou tough guys!” Roger said angrily, but winced again as it pulled on his lip when he grimaced at the thought. “I tried to fight back, but..”

“I know, love, I know.” John said as he rubbed at Roger’s arm. “As soon as they hit you, I came running.” He looked down at Roger and saw tears starting to well up in the blond’s eyes. He knew what Roger was thinking. The blond was almost an open book to him now that his eyes had been opened to what they were, and to Roger’s problems with his past. He was guilty that John had to feel the pain of being beaten yet again.

“Speaking of,” The two were pulled away from their little orbit when Brian finally spoke up. He was sitting in one of the two arm chairs, one long leg crossed over the other, looking very much like a parent or teacher having a serious discussion with their kids. “John, you knew that Roger was being hurt. You looked.. Shocked, and hurt.” He was staring intently at the two. By now he’d managed to piece together the basic idea of what was going on, and if Freddie’s expression was any indication, he knew too.

John looked down at the floor, feeling chastised. “Because I was. Roger and I..”

“We’re soulmates.” Roger stated bluntly. “I can feel John’s pain, and he can feel mine.”

“We gathered that much darling.” Freddie said in a flat voice after taking a sip of tea. “What I, and Brian over here, would like to know is exactly how long you two have known about this, and why you thought keeping it a secret was a good idea.” That was Freddie. Gloss over the fact that his two bandmates were soulmates and straight on to why he wasn’t in the loop.

“We figured it out just before I moved in here with you.” John said, his eyes still trained on the floor. “The day before the party, right after practice.” He turned his face up to see the matching looks of shock on the singer and guitarists faces.

“That was weeks ago, mate, and it took Roger getting the shit kicked out of him for you to tell us?” Brian said, still looking surprised.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, loves? You know Bri and I would never judge you.” Freddie looked hurt, like it was a personal offense that they had chosen not to confide in him.

“It wasn’t that we didn’t want to.” Roger said as he put his now empty tea cup on the coffee table. “We just didn’t know how to. What were we supposed to do? Just blurt out ‘Hey by the way, Deaky and I soulmates.’?”

“It would have been preferable to finding out after Roger got bloodied up by a couple of homophobic arseholes outside of a disco!” Freddie snapped. Roger and John both winced at his words. Freddie really was hurt. Roger and John were his brothers, as was Brian. The tall man had fallen silent, watching and studying what was happening. He was probably still in shock. They all were.

“Yeah, it would have.” John said as he looked over Roger again, taking in the bruises and plastered cuts on his boyfriend’s face. The twinges of pain were still there, but had lessened greatly over the last couple of hours. The injuries were superficial, thankfully. “But the less people who know, the better. People like those gits are why Roger and I aren’t screaming it from the rooftops.” He reached down and took Roger’s hand in his own. He had no fear of showing affection in front of his bandmates now that they knew. “And the effect it could have on the success of the band as well. Imagine people finding out that two of the band members are dating, and both men. We’d be ruined before we can even get anywhere. I would never want to hurt Roger’s chances of fulfilling his dream.”

He could almost see Roger’s heart swell from where he was sitting next to him.

“You soppy git.” Roger said with a cheeky grin, but winced yet again when it pulled on his lip. “I guess smiling is out of the question for a bit.”

“This stays between us, I promise. Not a word to anyone unless you tell us it’s ok.” Brian said softly. Freddie nodded his agreement. This band, this  _ family _ , meant more to all of them than they could ever have dreamed of.

“Now that’s all cleared up. I’m done with everything today. You can sleep on the couch Bri. Don’t want you wandering around in the dark.”

They all knew what that meant. They were all shaken by the night’s events, and everyone was hesitant to separate just yet. Brian just nodded his head and got up to gather the used mugs to take them to the kitchen. Freddie retired to his room after bidding them all goodnight. Roger and John did the same, going into their shared room. They didn’t speak, they just silently changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed. They curled around each other holding on more tightly then they usually did, clinging to one another like lifelines.


	7. Pain Is So Close To Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Roger finally consummate their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This is the final chapter of PISCTP. Thank you so much for going on this long and arduous journey with me. Fair warning. This is the smut chapter. So please enjoy!

The events of that night haunted all four members of the band in the following days. Even though it had been Roger who had taken the actual beating, the other three felt just as battered as he had been. Freddie and Brian’s pain was mental and emotional. John felt it physically as he suffered the aftermath of pains from the healing Roger along with the emotional toll. 

It was Roger who seemed to be the one who was holding it together the best. John knew deep down why that was. It wasn’t the first beating that Roger had taken in his life, along with being called the awful kinds of things that those animals had called his soulmate. He wasn’t immune to the anguish it caused, but he knew how to deal with it better than the others did. John would do anything in his power to make sure that it never happened again.

The four men didn’t stray far from each other, almost always in close proximity to one another, and never going anywhere alone. Brian stayed on the couch at Freddie, John and Roger’s flat for more nights than any of them would want to admit. They were shaken, and scared. Things that night could have gone so much worse, and they counted themselves lucky that everyone was intact.

They had talked about going to the police to file a report about the assault, but decided against it. Even if John and Roger were soulmates, they were still two men. The police would take the report and promptly throw it into the bin once the guys left. Why put themselves through the embarrassment and thinly veiled scorn for nothing to ever come of it?

It took more than a week for them to allow their guards to come down a bit, and return to almost normal. They were still shaken, but they grew less paranoid and stopped jumping at shadows. 

Roger and John stopped pretending around Freddie and Brian. When they were at practice, or in the flat, they didn’t bother hiding their affection for one another. It wasn’t unusual for them to be curled around one another while playing their third round of Scrabble or while watching a movie with the others. It hadn’t been unusual before then, all the members of the band were used to snuggling with one another with little regard for personal space. Now, though, the atmosphere around Roger and John had changed. Their touches were more intimate. Roger would brush Deaky’s hair away from his face. The brunet would take hold of the blond’s hand and lace their fingers together without thought, just so they would be touching.

It wasn’t intentional, but both men were determined to give gentle care to each other. They’d gone through so much pain together, they were careful to never cause it to one another. This subconscious desire had made a built in roadblock in their relationship.

The night after Roger’s attack, he and John had stepped up the physical side of their relationship. John’s mouth had felt like heaven around Roger’s cock, and watching the younger man slurp and suck at him like it was the most delicious lollipop he’d ever tasted had been the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Roger had returned John’s enthusiastic blow job with what the bassist described as ‘The best hand job I’ve ever had, including the ones I give myself.’

It had been a spectacular night filled with love and intimacy, and apparently more noise than they had intended, because Brian couldn’t look them in the face the next morning and Freddie looked vaguely smug crossed with a small amount of shock. 

As badly as they wanted to take the next step in intimacy, they knew that it would be an adjustment. Neither one was oblivious to the fact that sex with another man would involve some level of pain. It was a hurdle that most people would just shrug off. A small amount of discomfort in exchange for blissful pleasure was an easy trade. For John and Roger, though, the idea of causing the other pain was repulsive even if it was only a small amount.

It took two weeks for Roger’s bruises to fade away, and his cuts to fully heal. On his temple was a small scar from a ring on the hand of one of the assailants that had cut him when he’d been punched. It would probably fade over time, but for the most part, his blond bangs covered it. They told everyone that it had just been a couple of drunk idiots outside of a club. It was the truth, but not everyone needed to know the  _ whole _ truth. 

Neither John, nor Roger had even told their families about finding each other. There had been no easy way to broach the subject, and even then, telling them over the telephone felt wrong. So they decided that they wouldn’t say anything until they saw their families later on. Christmas seemed like a good time, and hopefully the festive mood would help ease the news.

One evening, shortly after Roger had recovered from his injuries, he and John ventured out for a pint just the two of them. Brian had papers to work on, and Freddie was working at the clothing stall, and would be going to his new girlfriend’s flat afterwards. John and Roger were a bit relieved at the idea of getting to spend time alone with each other. They didn’t have to worry about propriety in front of the others, and truth be told, they were getting tired of being around the other members of the band constantly. It was nice to have a bit of time to themselves without being shut up in their room.

They were careful while they were in the pub, sitting across from each other and keeping their hands to themselves. Under the table, they both stretched their legs forward so that their feet were tangled. It was like their little secret, and there was a certain thrill to it. They talked about the same things that they always did. Everything and nothing. How the music was coming together, and worrying about their next gig. The latest films that had come out, and books they wanted to read.

More than a few times, girls came up to the table and tried to flirt with one or both of the men. They politely shut them all down, saying that they were both in relationships and had no intention of breaking that faith. The majority of those girls shrugged it off and backed down. Of course those two gorgeous men were taken, anyone would be an idiot to let them go. Others were more persistent, either oblivious to their obvious disinterest or just did not care about fidelity.

None of them were aware that they were flirting with men whose soulmate was sitting right there at the table with them, and that was how John and Roger liked it. It was very annoying, but they would get over it. They would have to put up with it for the foreseeable future, and god knows how much worse it would get when the band got bigger. They were gaining such good traction now, and a secret like theirs could derail them before they even got to start.

After finishing their second pint, they decided it was time to go when they saw another woman eyeing them up from across the pub, and were unwilling to put up with any more attempts from women to get them into bed. They threw on their coats and made the short trek back to the flat, careful that their arms just barely brushed against each other as they walked.

It was still early in the evening, not even nine o’clock yet. They changed out of their street clothes, and into pyjamas before settling on to the couch in the living room and flicking on the telly. They flipped through the channels until they found a random sci fi film playing on one. Roger curled himself into John’s side with his feet tucked up under him and his arm around the brunet’s waist. John’s arm wrapped around the blond’s shoulders, fingers idly toying with the end of the blond locks, and lacing the fingers of his other hand with the one that Roger had across his stomach.

Neither man was paying too much attention to what was happening on the screen in front of them. Their minds were turned inward, the telly just a faint noise in the background.

John’s brain was wandering around back to their time at the pub. Most of those women had come up and talked to Roger. Of course a couple had also paid attention to him, but for the most part it had been his soulmate that they had been drawn to. Who wouldn’t be? Roger was so vibrant and bold, and beautiful. They didn’t know him like John did, though. They hadn’t felt his pain. They didn’t know the darker side of the drummer that only the bassist was privy to. It had taken some time, but John had managed to get him to open up more about his abuse. There had been so many tears shed, they might have drowned in them. But, they had come out stronger on the other side. 

Roger’s own mind had been thinking similar thoughts. He had been a little amused at the small hints of jealousy that had crossed John’s face when the women flirted with him. He’d also felt a small bit of irrational anger deep inside of him when they had ignored John. How could they not see how gorgeous his Deaky was? He was lucky though. He knew John. He knew how sweet and caring he was, and how deeply he felt everything. John had thrown himself headfirst into loving Roger before he’d ever even met him. That thought made a smile cross Roger’s face. It made him want to show John just how much he loved him in return.

He suddenly sat up, startling a John out of his own thoughts, and moved so that he was straddling John’s lap.

“Well hello there.” John said as his hands went to grip Roger’s hips, the wide grin he gave the blond showing the tiny gap in his front teeth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do I need a reason?” Roger said with a cheeky grin on his face. He leaned in and brushed his lips against John’s in a soft kiss for only a moment before he began to kiss a trail along the brunet’s jaw to the spot just below his ear.

“Mmm I suppose not.” John said softly, tilting his head so that Roger had full access to his neck. His large hands slid up beneath the hem of Roger’s shirt to trace along the smooth peachy skin of the drummer’s back. One of the blond’s hands moved to the back of John’s head, gathering up his long hair and holding it to the side so that he could fully nip and suck at John’s elegant neck, leaving small hickies in his wake.

John let out a groan of pleasure when Roger rolled his hips against his lap, feeling the blond’s pert bum rub against his crotch. His own hips moved in response, their bodies grinding together. After a few moments of this, Roger’s lips found John’s again. This kiss was much less sweet than the first one. Roger licked into his lover’s mouth with passion, and his hand holding John’s hair tugged at it gently, making the brunet groan into his mouth.

The bassist’s hands slid down Roger’s back and his hands dipped beneath the stretchy waistband of the pyjama pants to grip each of the blond’s buttcheeks. The blond whimpered softly and pressed his hips even more firmly against John. Both men groaned with pleasure as their growing, clothed erections rubbed against one another.

Roger pulled back from John, the brunet chasing his lips as he did. John’s face was a vision of pure beauty. His lips were pink and slightly kiss swollen, pupils wide, and there was a flush high on his cheeks. They’d barely just begun and he already looked on the way to being fucked out.

Roger knew he wanted to see more of that face. He wanted to  _ do _ more with John. He wanted to take that next step. He  _ needed _ to do it. He pressed another kiss to John’s eager lips before he pulled back and crawled out of the brunet’s lap. 

“Come on,” He said as he held out his hand for John to take. The bassist was eager to follow Roger down the hall to their bedroom, their fingers laced together. Once they were in the bedroom with the door firmly shut, and the lamp next to the bed flicked on, Roger tugged John onto the bed with him. They’d been in this position plenty of times over the last couple of months. They’d kissed, and cuddled, and done a bit more right here. But Roger wanted more. He laid on his back and tugged at Deaky until the man was over him, their legs slotted together.

Roger pulled John down so that they were flush against each other. They resumed their kiss, John and Roger taking turns licking into each other’s mouths, and teeth nipping at lips. Roger wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders and rolled his hips up against the brunet, groaning as his covered cock rubbed against his lover’s thigh. 

John propped himself up on an elbow with their lips still attached, and slid his other hand under Roger’s shirt, pushing the material up until his fingers brushed against one of Roger’s nipples. He grinned into their kiss before pulling back and ducking his head down to wrap his lips around the little bud, and tease it with the tip of his tongue.

Roger sucked in a breath, and mewled softly. He had never known that his nipples were a sensitive spot until John had come along. Even though he was a Biology student, he’d thought only women were really sensitive there. John had proven him very wrong. His fingers ran through the bassist’s fluffy hair as his back arched up into the touch. Roger’s hands roamed down John’s back and tugged at his shirt, pulling it upwards. The brunet pulled away from his chest and helped Roger tug the shirt off, before doing the same for the blond. 

John was leaning down to kiss Roger again, but the drummer stopped him with a hand on his chest. The younger man was confused by this. Roger never turned down a kiss from his boyfriend.

“John, my love.” Roger started, one hand reaching up to gently cup the side of John’s face, his thumb brushing across the man’s cheek. “I want.. I want you.” He said, his voice a little bit shaky. It wasn’t from nerves. It was from the sheer amount of emotion that was coursing through him at the sight of his boyfriend above him.

John furrowed his brow for a moment with some confusion. He knew that Roger wanted him, or else they wouldn’t be in this position. Unless, he meant…

“Are you sure Rog?” John said softly, one hand running up and down Roger’s side, his fingers tracing along the blond’s ribs. Roger nodded and took a deep breath.

“Yes.. I want you inside me. I want to feel you baby. I know you’ll take care of me.” It was the truest thing that Roger had ever said in his life. John would take care of him. He would love him and treat him with all of the tenderness that he possessed. He was far too good for the blond, but Roger wasn’t going to complain.

“Ok sweetheart.” John said as he leaned down and placed the gentlest kiss on Roger’s forehead, then the tip of his nose, and then his lips. “I’ll go slow alright? You tell me if it’s too much.” John would know just how much it hurt. He was going to experience it right along with Roger. He would know when it began to feel good, merely because the ache would stop.

John moved off of Roger, and tugged his pyjama bottoms off and tossed them aside with their shirts. He gently smacked at Roger’s hands when the blond moved to pull off his own bottoms with a playful grin. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of Roger’s bottoms and slowly tugged them down. He planted kisses at each of the blond’s hips, and then along one thigh, and then down along the length of Roger’s leg. He dropped the pyjamas on top of the other clothing and crawled back up Roger’s body, kissing his way back up his lover’s other leg. 

Once he was face level with Roger’s groin, he smirked up at his boyfriend before dropping his head down and running his tongue along the length of the drummer’s hard cock from the base to the tip. He gripped the base with one big hand and wrapped his lips around the tip, sucking gently while his tongue toyed with the little slit at the very top. Roger let out a long low groan, his hands delving into John’s fluffy brown hair and gripping tight.

John bobbed his head down, taking in more of Roger’s cock into his mouth and back up again a few times. He ran the flat of his tongue from the base to the tip again, and placed a kiss to the head of Roger’s dick.

He leaned up and over to get into the drawer of the nightstand, and pulled out the small container of lube that Roger kept stashed there. He looked more nervous now, knowing what he was about to do. There was a rush of elation, but also a tinge of anxiety about it.

“Hey love,” Roger pulled John out of his head, one hand moving to his empty hand to lace their fingers together. “It’s ok. I want to feel all of you. You won’t hurt me.”

John nodded and leaned down to kiss Roger one more time before positioning himself between the drummer’s legs. He sucked in a shaky breath, opened up the lube, and poured a bit into his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together, warming the slick liquid between his fingers before pressing it between Roger’s butt cheeks and gently pushing one finger tip against his tight entrance. He rubbed the ring of muscle in a circle, his eyes staying trained on the blond’s face as he did, watching for any signs of discomfort.

Roger’s eyes closed and his head tilted back, his back arched up, pushing his hips down against John’s finger. John pressed his finger harder, and it began to push into Roger’s tight hole. John felt the slightest burn in his own backside, and saw Roger’s eyes tighten a bit at the feeling. His other hand let go of Roger’s and began tracing up and down the drummer’s side in a soothing gesture.

He pushed his finger in further in a slow, smooth motion, the way eased by all of the lube he was using. He could feel the stretching, burning feeling in his own hole and could see the way that Roger was trying his best to stay still and not move away from the feeling. This was a totally new sensation for both men. They had never been with another man in this way before. John bit down on his lower lip as he pulled his finger back out once he’d reached the second knuckle, and then pushed it all the way back in, in a single stroke.

Roger hissed in a breath and his back arched up off of the bed. The pain of the motion was dull, but he’d seen the way that Roger’s cock had twitched at the sensation. There was pain, but from Roger’s reaction, pleasure came along with it, but the bond didn’t allow John to feel that. He kept his finger seated inside of Roger now, wriggling it and twisting it around inside of the blond, allowing him to get used to the feeling of it. After a few moments of this, and seeing the way Roger’s body began to respond to his touches, the brunet began moving his long, broad finger in and out of Roger in slow, deep strokes.

“Please John,” Roger said in a breathy voice, his baby blue eyes meeting with John’s green-grey. “More.. Want more of you.” His hips squirmed around, and the previous burn that John had felt was practically gone now.

John nodded and pulled his finger out, and poured a little more lube onto his fingertips. “Ok sweetheart, I’ll give you more.” He smiled his gap toothed smile down at his soulmate, who was already a bit flushed from their actions. There was a slightly petulant look about him, like he wasn’t so patiently waiting for John to get on with it.

John pressed his two fingers against Roger’s hole, just as he had done before, and massaged the ring of muscles. The drummer squirmed and pressed down, moaning slightly as the digits started to press into him. The bassist gave in to Roger’s silent demand, and pushed his fingers past the opening, feeling the bit of pain that came along with the breach. He bit down on his own lips to suppress the slight groan he wanted to make, and focused on the way that Roger looked beneath him.

He was beautiful, his blond hair spread over the pillows like a halo, blue eyes half lidded and glazed with want. One hand was brushing fingertips against one of his own nipples, while the other clutched at the sheets. John pressed his fingers farther in without a thought, and once again, Roger’s back arched up a bit, his legs falling farther open. There was definite pain happening, but Roger either liked it or the pleasure he was gaining was overwhelming it. 

John slid the hand that had been caressing the drummer’s side to his crotch and wrapped his calloused fingers around his lover’s pretty cock and began to slowly stroke it. Roger moaned out loudly, his hips trying to now buck between the fingers inside of him and the hand wrapped around his prick.

“Oh you are a wanton little thing aren’t you?” John said with a chuckle. Roger pouted up at him between little mewls of pleasure, his hips rocking as he tried to fuck himself on John’s fingers. John didn’t feel the burning sensation anymore, and he grinned down at Roger. John had done a bit of research, being the brainbox he was, and had learned about a spot inside of men that if touched just right was supposed to bring immense amounts of pleasure. He’d kept this information from Roger, though. John did like to surprise others on occasion after all.

“You’re doing so good Roger. You’re taking me so well.” John said as he kept twisting his fingers, scissoring them to open up his lover. Roger liked to be praised. He lived off of compliments about his talents and looks. That translated to sex as well. Though they hadn’t gone all the way until now, previous encounters had taught John that dirty words were almost as much of a turn on for Roger as actually touching the blond’s cock. “Feeling good? Nothing hurts?”

“Feels.. Good..” Roger said between groans of pleasure as John stroked at his inner walls, his hand on the blond’s cock lazily running up and down it with hardly any pressure. “John please..”

John moved his hand away from Roger’s cock, causing the drummer to whimper at the loss of contact, but John just held on to his soulmate’s hip, squeezing gently. He pulled his fingers out of Roger and added a third, pushing back into Roger. A flash of pain worked from his own hole and up his spine, but faded away after just a moment. Roger’s eyes fluttered closed and his hips rocked more firmly against John’s probing fingers as they worked at him, curling his fingers and massaging the velvety inner walls, searching for that one spot-

“Ahhh!” Roger cried out softly, his back arching high up off the bed. There it was. John’s lips turned up in a cheeky smirk as he pressed his fingertips against that spot more firmly, massaging it with little back and forth strokes. Roger let out little whimpers as his hips bucked and rolled from the pleasure that was shooting along his spine. Precum was leaking steadily from his dick and smearing across his stomach with each roll of his hips.

“Fuck! Deaky.. what the fuck?” The blond said when John had mercy on him and stopped rubbing at the spot, going back to sliding his digits in and out of Roger at a steady pace.

“You study biology Rog, I thought you would know about a prostate.” John couldn’t hide the slight amusement in his voice. He punctuated his statement with a firm press of his fingers against that spot again, making Roger cry out and arch his back again.

“Oh you cheeky- ahhhhh” His words were cut short by John wrapping his large hand around Roger’s cock and giving it a quick stroke. “Deaky! John! Please I want you inside me.. please , love.” John’s actions had effectively shut Roger’s brain off. He’d wanted to make a snappy comeback, but all of these sensations were overwhelming him.

“How could I say no after you asked so nicely?” John said as he pulled his fingers out of Roger, sure now that his lover was ready for him. He watched as Roger winced from the action. It wasn’t from pain, just the sudden sensation of emptiness. John grabbed the lube from the nightstand and poured a generous amount onto his cock, groaning lightly at the feeling of the slick liquid being rubbed along his length as he stroked himself.

John watched as Roger squirmed beneath him, his chest already heaving a bit with the anticipation of what was about to happen. He was flushed a pretty shade of pink, his body so pliant for the bassist. 

John positioned himself between Roger’s legs, pulling them up and around his waist as he leaned forward and rested on his elbows, his dark hair making a curtain around their faces. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” He leaned down and connected their lips as he pushed his hips forward, the head of his cock sinking into Roger’s tight heat. There was a slight shock of pain through both men as John’s erection stretched open the blond more than his fingers had. John’s cock was much more to handle than even his large fingers were. Roger had called it ‘exceedingly unfair’ the first time he’d seen John naked.

John went slowly, pushing in an inch or two before stopping and letting Roger and himself adjust to the feeling. He was surprised he didn’t cum from the first moment his tip pressed against the drummer’s hole. Once he was fully seated inside Roger, he bit down on his lip as dull aches radiated through his spine, an echo of what Roger was feeling. It was a truly strange sensation to feel the ache that he was causing. What kept him going was knowing that it would soon go away, and it would be nothing but pleasure for both of them.

John hovered over Roger, watching every little expression that crossed the man’s face, trying his best to stay still even as his body screamed at him to move. 

“Fuck, baby..” Roger whimpered out, his arms wrapping around John’s shoulders, blunt nails pressing into John’s skin as his body squirmed. “God you’re so big.. Feels good.. I want you to move.” The blond rolled his hips to emphasize his point making John choke out a moan at the sensation. John responded to Roger’s request by pulling his hips back until he was almost fully out of Roger before pressing back in one smooth stroke.

Roger gasped out loudly at the sensation, and his thighs squeezed tighter around John’s sides, his hips moving up to meet John’s. The brunet leaned down and kissed up and down Roger’s neck as his hips began to move in a slow, deep rhythm. Roger was letting out the most beautiful sounds, low moans and whines of pleasure as John moved in and out of his body.

“More.. more please..” Roger gasped out as his legs tighten around John’s waist, rolling his hips harder against his lover. 

John groaned out at Roger’s plea, his hips moving harder and faster. He angled his hips as he thrust, panting deeply while watching Roger’s pink flushed face and lust blown eyes. 

“You’re so pretty sweetheart, look so good under me. Beautiful. You feel so good around me sweetheart, just perfect.” John groans out, and then whimpers loudly when he finally hits Roger’s prostate, causing the blond to clench around his cock and cry out. John swallowed the sound by kissing Roger, their tongues sloppily dancing around with each other.

John keeps thrusting, making sure to hit that sweet spot each and every time he moves his hips forward. He’s not going to last much longer and he knows it. The feeling of Roger against him and around him is too much. They way the blond is moaning into his mouth and bucking against him without rhythm tells him that Roger isn’t too far off himself. He pulls his mouth away from the drummer’s, and he reaches down between them to wrap his calloused hand around his soulmate’s cock and starts to jerk him quickly along with his increasingly erratic thrusts.

“Rog, love.. I know you’re close. Come on sweetheart, cum for me.” He says, his voice lower and raspier from all of the stimulation and exertion. It doesn’t take long after his words of encouragement for Roger to cry out, repeating John’s name over and over again like a prayer. The older man’s body goes stiff for a moment before he starts twitching under John, his cock releasing stream after stream of warm white cum across John’s hand and the blond’s own chest and stomach. The sight, sound, and feeling of Roger coming undone beneath him is enough to send John flying over the edge himself, his body giving a few more sharp thrusts before seating himself fully inside of his lover and spilling his release into him with a low grunt and moan.

John doesn’t take his eyes away from Roger through it all, watching the bliss cross his soulmate’s face as the high rides through both of them before slowly winding down. Roger’s legs finally unwrap from around John’s waist and the brunet pulls his spent dick from his lover, making both of them wince at the feeling. He flops down on his back next to Roger, both men panting, trying to catch their breath. John feels Roger’s hand grasp on to his, lacing their fingers together, and he turns his head to see the beautiful blond smiling a dopey love struck smile at him.

John answered with a wide grin of his own before tilting his head and playing a kiss to those pink swollen lips. 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And that was what this was. Love. And John and Roger would use it to shield themselves throughout the rest of their lives. They had each other, and Freddie and Brian. Nothing would ever stand in their way. No matter how much pain either of them suffered, the other would be there right alongside them, feeling it with them, and giving comfort every step of the way. 

That was all they would ever need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading. I know it feels like it ended abruptly, but I've run out of steam and ideas for this fic. I wholeheartedly admit I didn't plan it out as well as I should have, but it is what it is. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the kind words and comments that you guys have left along the way. You have no idea what it means to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments and kudos and tell me what you thought of this. Please come say hi on tumblr, where my username is the same as on here. Thanks to The Clog Factory and Phoenix_Queen for all the support.


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